


i'll look you in the eye and say i missed you

by lethargicProfessor



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Canon-Typical Behavior, F/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Canon Compliant, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25213438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lethargicProfessor/pseuds/lethargicProfessor
Summary: Peggy is a punctual woman. She doesn't like to be kept waiting, and yet wait she does.-The night at the Stork Club doesn't end how she expected.
Relationships: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	i'll look you in the eye and say i missed you

The Stork Club is a silly idea.

Peggy knows he isn’t going to show up -- Steve Rogers was currently (officially) missing in action in the middle of the ocean. It would be nothing short of a miracle if he survived, much less arrived to his scheduled date.

Still, Peggy waits outside the doors, ignoring the looks of patrons who come and go through the night. She doesn’t need their pity.

Eight arrives with little fanfare, and blends into nine and ten, and still Peggy waits, leaning back against the rough brick wall, hoping it doesn’t catch and cause runs on her dress. A few men and a couple of women ask if she’s alright, if she’d like to go in and dance, and to each she smiles politely and waves them away, explaining almost apologetically that she’s just waiting for someone, that’s all.

It’s half past one when a figure steps from the shadows, and Peggy, though exhausted and unhappy, tenses for a fight. She shifts her purse to her left side almost absently, widening her stance as casually as she can. 

The figure continues to approach, and stops just shy of the light, clearing his throat. “Peggy…?”

His voice is unmistakable, and makes Peggy that much more tense when Steve, or at least a very convincing double, approaches. His clothes are mismatched, probably meant for a man of a much wider build, his eyes darting this way and that. Wary. On edge. Not like the Steve she knew.

Peggy draws herself up and slips the gun from her purse, doing away with any pretenses. “Who are you?”

At the sight of her pistol the man seems to sag with relief, a true smile lighting up his features as he glances around for witnesses. “It’s alright, Peggy, I can explain.” He taps his chest, smile twisting into something sadder. “It’s me. Really me.”

Peggy doesn’t buy it.

“Steve Rogers is dead.” She snaps, gun steady despite her nerves. Something tells her this isn’t right, moreso when she really takes him in. Steve’s hair was meticulously regulation; this man’s is longer and swept back, the sides darker than the blonde she was used to. His eyes may be the same color, but her Steve’s never carried such a heaviness, a world-weary sadness that even soldiers in Phillips’ rank rarely reached.

The man smiles sadly, shrugging. “Not dead. Just lost. They’ll find me eventually.”

“You’re not doing much to convince me.” It’s not impossible to believe this is an elaborate ruse, and if it is, Peggy will not rest until whoever is responsible faces the consequences. 

The man nods, fussing with something at his wrist for a moment. “I guess I’m not the best at this kinda stuff.” Satisfied with whatever he’s looking at, he nods again, looking up at Peggy.

“Your name is Margaret Elizabeth Carter. You had a brother named Michael, and he’s the one who got you into this mess.” He clears his throat, smoothing at his hair in an effort to calm his nerves, the move so familiar it makes Peggy’s heart ache. “There was a mission we had, all of us, the Howlies I mean. Dugan bet you couldn’t do a hundred push ups and you proved him wrong. I think half of the boys fell in love with you right then and there.” 

Peggy snorts, the memory fond if bittersweet. It was one of the last missions they had all together, before Barnes fell. “You’re so dramatic.”

“You’ve told me that before.” His smile twinges into something painful for a second before he shrugs. “I...I can’t stay long. Really I shouldn’t have come at all but I had a date to keep.”

“You’re late anyways, there’s no point in dancing...” The gun stays in her hand, but she lowers it at least, watching him for any sudden movements. “What happened?”

“It’s a long story.” Steve sighs, fussing with the cuffs of his borrowed coat. “But there were some things I had to take care of first.”

The idea seems silly, but Peggy needs to ask anyway. “Are you a ghost?”

That draws a startled laugh out of him, and some of the lines around his eyes lessen, just a touch. “Something like that.”

Steve walks closer, holding his hands up, unthreatening, until he’s just a couple of steps away, and Peggy can’t help but marvel at him. If it is a trick, it’s convincing enough. She even feels a few tears run down her face, though she brushes them away hurriedly. “Steve?”

“It’s me,” he whispers, grunting as she rushes to him, hugging him so tightly it feels like she’s trying to tether him down, keep him from fading away or disappearing. Steve is solid under her hands though, as is the heartbeat thudding in her ear as she presses close.

“There’s so much I wish I could tell you,” he whispers against her hair, and she feels tremors in his hands, in his arms. She hasn’t felt him shake like that since the Alps. “I can’t do much, but I need you to trust me, Peggy.”

“You know I do.” She hates how the tears make her words stick, hates how it makes it hard to breathe, but she does, meeting his gaze as much as she can. “I trust you.”

Steve nods, and slips a piece of paper from inside the coat pocket, pressing it into her hands before kissing her knuckles. “Save him. Don’t you worry about me, they’ll fish me out eventually. But save him, please. Howard can help.”

“Save who?” Peggy unfolds the paper, frowning at the series of coordinates scrawled across the page in his familiar handwriting. “Steve, I don’t understand--”

“I’m running out of time, Peg,” he breathes, and swallows hard. “Stay safe. You can trust Howard, but Hydra’s not done yet. I know you can stop them this time, Peg. You won’t be alone. Tell Bucky, tell Howard, they’ll support you, alright? You can flush them out before they grow, but you need to trust yourself.”

“What does that mean?” If she sounds petulant, it’s only the very real fear he’s rooted in her chest. They’ve all but finished Hydra, that was the whole point of their efforts, of Steve’s sacrifice and Bucky’s, and those of every other person who died in the war. If that wasn’t the end, what was the point? 

Steve smiles and cups her face, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. It’s nothing like the one she had a week ago; there’s none of the desperation or adrenaline fueling them. This is softer, tender, the kiss of a man saying goodbye properly.

Peggy isn’t sure which she hates more as Steve pulls away, smearing a stain of lipstick across his cheek when he tries to wipe a tear away. Shaking her head, Peggy reaches up, brushing the stain away with her thumb instead, cupping his cheek just for a moment. “You were never this cryptic.”

“The future will do things to ya,” he demurs, kissing her palm before stepping back properly. “Please...I’ll be fine. I’ll see you around, Peggy. Trust me.”

Steve Rogers salutes Peggy Carter one last time, giving her a fond smile, before stepping into an alley. There is a bright flash of light, and even as Peggy stumbles after him to see, to stop him or to demand more answers, she finds no sign of the man.

The only thing she has to prove he was real is the scrap of paper clenched tightly in her fist. 

(She’s made do with less.)


End file.
